


31 Days of Us

by Wrongest_Under_Heaven



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:09:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 6,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrongest_Under_Heaven/pseuds/Wrongest_Under_Heaven
Summary: This is a collection of microfiction pieces I did during the month of October. I took an Inktober prompt and wrote a piece for each one, trying to keep them in the 100-300 word range. The hope was to show a range of tones in Zoro and Sanji's relationship. The pieces range in tone - some are sad, others more sultry, and many sweet (or so I hope). I tried to avoid any heavy heartbreak or violence, and they tend to end on a positive (or at least comforting) note.I should also note that there is no clear chronological or thematic order beyond the prompts I was working with, and I did not necessarily intend for them to be read in a clear order. They can be read - and hopefully enjoyed - in whatever order you choose.





	1. Stars

Sanji fell back against the pillows and let out a sigh of contented exhaustion. Beads of sweat rolled down his skin, his body swimming in the echoes of sensation. He kept his eyes closed tight, raising an arm up to rest the back of his hand against his forehead. He smiled without meaning to and let out a quiet, giddy _hm hm hm_.

“What is it?” Zoro asked, laying down next to Sanji, his bare chest pressed against Sanji’s arm. He ran the side of his forearm across his mouth to wipe it off.

“Oh? Nothing,” the cook replied, eyes still closed tight. His smile curled mischievously, not unlike his eyebrows. “I just… when I close my eyes after you do _that_, I always see stars.” He turned his head to the side to stare at Zoro and their eyes locked.

He still saw stars.


	2. Moon

Soft music played below decks on the Thousand Sunny, the merry tunes reverberating within the hull of the smiling lion ship. The Star Hat Pirates’ cheerful reverie was accompanied the sounds of masterful violin and excited toe-tapping.

Zoro stood on the main deck, alone. He leaned his elbows against the edge of the ship. A starry midnight sky twinkled above, its cold reflection mirrored in the inky black sea below. There was an empty void in the center – a new moon, all shrouded in black. Zoro decided that he wanted to be alone.

“What are you doing up here all alone?” asked a familiar, smoky voice.

“Thinking,” Zoro replied without turning.

The voice came three steps closer. They chuckled, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Zoro grumbled, not amused.

The voice closed the gap between them. “I’m sorry, just a joke,” Sanji said.

Zoro stood fully upright and pressed the flat of his palms against the railing. He did not turn to face the cook.

Sanji stepped close to the swordsman and pressed his chest against Zoro’s back. He placed his hand on Zoro’s side, running it along the rugged terrain of the swordsman’s chest. “Don’t do this to yourself,” Sanji whispered. He rested his chin at the top of Zoro’s back, every breath caressing Zoro’s neck. “Don’t be alone.”

Zoro saw where the new moon rested in darkness. He decided _not _to be alone.


	3. Sun

_~snnnnkkkkk~_

~ZWWWWoooooo~

~snnnnKKKK~

_~ZWWWOOooo~_

Zoro was snoring. The green-haired samurai laid on a reclined beach chair wearing a pair of blazing orange swim shorts. His bare chest, arms, and legs were tan from laying out in the sun. Beneath the obnoxious snoring one could almost hear the crackle of the heat on his skin.

His arms were folded behind his head, chest protruding upwards. His pectorals rose and fell in a steady rhythm, a sheen of sweat making them glisten golden brown. Except for a small area in the center of his chest that someone had written on him with sunscreen. In wiggling lines of pale white skin it spelled out

BUSTY BABE

“Nice tan lines,” Sanji joked. His jab woke Zoro from his cat-snap, and the swordsman snapped to a sort of groggy attention.

“Huh, snu- what?” he asked. His eyelids blinked rapidly. Then he looked down and saw the lettering, raising himself up on his elbows to try and read it. “Ebab Ystub? What does that mean?”

The ship’s cook nearly burst a blood vessel. “You’re looking at it upside down, moss-head. It says ‘busty babe.’”

“Oh.” Zoro’s tone made it seem like he did not understand.

Sanji leaned close, his nose almost brushing against Zoro’s. He placed a hand on the back of the swordsman’s head and lightly clutched a clump of emerald hair. “God you’re thick sometimes,” he said, but with an endearing smile.

Zoro smiled playfully. “Only sometimes?”

Sanji’s cheeks turned red. It wasn’t from the sun. He pulled Zoro in close for a hungry embrace, their tongues and arms soon wrapping one another.

The tanning lotion would not be the only time Zoro’s chest was painted white that afternoon…


	4. Butterfly

“What do you want out of this?”

Sanji was taken aback by the question. His eyebrow curled in thought as Zoro’s words sank in. They were both lying in bed, sheets loosely draped across their bodies. The burnt orange light of the setting sun painted Sanji’s quarters in dramatic, vivid shadows. The cook turned his head to face the swordsman, meeting his gaze. They had both cooled off by this point but here and there beads of sweat remained on Zoro’s flesh. Sanji told himself he needed time to answer but he was gawking, truth be told.

He bought himself time to think and stare. “What do you mean? In life? On our journey? Or from _this_?” he asked. The emphasis on _this _implied their newly kindled romance.

“All three,” Zoro replied. _Typical_. Why wield one at a time when he could wield three?

“I think…” Sanji started, paused, and started again, “I think before – when I said I wanted to see the All Blue – that was easier to say because I didn’t have anything. It was easy to dream of having something when I had nothing. Now that I’ve got something… _someone_,” he corrected himself, “I don’t know what I’m chasing.”

He entwined the fingers of his right hand with Zoro’s left. “But sometimes things change, they grow into new forms. I’m good with that.”

Zoro smiled. “Me too.”


	5. Sunflower

Nami tilted her head to the side in confusion. “What exactly are you doing, Sanji?” she asked incredulously. A stiff sea breeze washed across the deck and sent her orange hair waving. The branches of the orange tree rustled as well. Near the far back corner of the soil, the ship’s cook was kneeling and using a small hand trowel to scoop and pat the dirt.

“Planting a seed,” he replied as though that were obvious.

“A seed? What kind?”

“Sunflower.”

“Why?”

Could he tell her the truth? That during their last battle Zoro had gotten himself knocked into a flower bed during the fighting? That even though he’d won, the moss-head had returned to the ship with a head full of petals and seeds? That Zoro hadn’t even noticed it for hours after he’d come aboard? Sanji wanted a reminder of that on the ship – Zoro the effortless, dopey, sunshine lunkhead.

“I liked sunflower seeds, that’s all,” he lied.


	6. Hydrangea

Sanji hmped. “Always green?” he asked. Zoro blinked as if he didn’t understand the question.

The cook rolled his eyes and took a frustrated drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in an upward geyser using his lower lip. “Let’s try something new. For once. Please.”

Zoro begrudgingly hung the four green jackets he had picked out back on the rack. If other patrons of the shop noticed their discussion they made no sign of it. 

Sanji rifled through a selection of coats in different styles and hues. He presented them to Zoro in turn.

“This one?”

“No.”

“How about this?”

“No.”

“Come on you’d look dashing in th-“

“No.”

Sanji grumbled. Then he spotted one that would bring a smile to both their faces.

Moments later they exited the shop. Zoro had a brand new coat, green fabric with gold buttons just like he liked. The print was a floral pattern – beautiful blooms in a kaleidoscope of colors, whites and pinks and purples and more. They left together for a nice midday lunch before leaving port.


	7. Elegant

Zoro fumbled with the silk tie. No matter how hard he tried he could never seem to make it work out – he only ended up with his fingers in a knot of wadded up tie. This was his fourth – no, fifth attempt at tying the yellow accessory and he was at the end of his patience.

“Stupid… tie… graargh!” he grumbled with increasing frustration. Unable to free his fingers he grabbed the tie in his teeth and yanked it until the knot came undone, letting it hang loosely around his neck.

Sanji strode in, exhaling a wispy trail of smoke. “Hey, moss head,” he said, striding up to the swordsman. The cook could already tell what the problem was. “Here,” he said, “let me.”

Sanji placed his hands on Zoro’s shoulders and let the cigarette hang on his lips. He turned the green-haired goofball to face him and calmly, carefully, deliberately tied his tie for him. Zoro’s face flushed with red as Sanji took control of the situation. Sanji tightened the tie and said, “There. You were trying to hard. The key is that it has to be effortless.” The cook made sure the tie was tight and let the barest tip of his thumb brush Zoro’s neck below his Adam’s apple. Sanji winked. Zoro gulped. The night was young.


	8. Fluffy

“Do you want them fluffy or regular?”

The cook’s question rattled around in Zoro’s skull. Clearly it was a challenging question because Zoro didn’t respond immediately. In fact it was challenging him so much that Sanji could practically hear the sizzling _ssssss _of steam coming out of the swordsman’s ears.

Zoro partially sat up in bed, resting his weight on his elbows, still bare save for the sheets covering his lower body. “I don’t understand.”

Sanji adjusted his loose-fitting shirt and shorts, looking for a pair of shoes before he headed to the ship’s kitchen. “What do you mean you don’t understand?”

“I mean I… don’t… understand. They’re just eggs right?”

“Yes, but how do you want them cooked.”

“You cook eggs?”

Zoro’s question almost bowled Sanji over then and there.

“What do you mean _can you cook eggs_, yes of course you can cook eggs! Do you eat them raw?”

“Yes, that’s how you eat them,” Zoro said matter-of-factly.

Sanji laughed – a mixture of exasperation and surprise. He walked back to the bedside and ran a hand over Zoro’s green hair with just enough force to tilt the dummy’s head back. “I’ll make them fluffy,” he said with a smile, giving the buff dolt one last – long – parting kiss before leaving to make breakfast.


	9. Simple Fashion

The green-headed first mate stood in front of a full length mirror in his quarters. He wore only a pair of long dark pants, his muscular chest and arms exposed. He kept holding up two different tank tops in front of himself in the mirror – the one in his right so dark gray it was almost black, the one in his left so light black it was almost gray.

Left. _Hm._

Right. _Hm._

Left again. _Hmm?_

Right once more. _Hmm._

Sanji watched him quietly from the doorway. He let a smile curl at the edge of his mouth. “How long are you going to keep doing that?”

Zoro murmured in reply. “_Slng s irt hrn…”_

“I can’t hear you moss-head.”

“As long as it _takes_,” Zoro huffed. Right? No. Left?

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

“I…” he paused to exhale a long, tired breath. Maybe honest was best. “…know you can be particular. I want to make sure I make the cut. You know. For you.”

Sanji chuckled and stood from his leaning position. “Like I said,” the cook began, pausing only to shoot the swordsman a wink before leaving, “it doesn’t matter.”


	10. Artsy Fashion

Arms steady. Knees slightly bent. Teeth gritted.

Zoro was focused and sweating through the pain. _I have to push through this, become stronger than ever. I have to last._

“Here’s another bag Zoro!” Nami called. He couldn’t see her face – the pile of boxes he was holding was obscuring his vision – but he could hear her voice loud and clear. Holding all of this was nearly as hard as his workout regimen.

His voice was short and clipped, punctuated by grunts as his knees wobbled. “You… sure… love… to… shop…” he managed.

“Of course!” Nami agreed, tossing another box onto the pile he was already holding. “When it’s other people’s money,” she added. Her laugh was part maniacal villain, part self-congratulatory.

“Hey hey, don’t wear him out Nami-swan,” Sanji called from somewhere out of Zoro’s (incredibly limited) vision.

“What for? He said he’d help me today.”

“I know, but I need to borrow moss-head for a minute.” The Cook leaned mischievously around the side of the stack of boxes Zoro was holding and grinned at him like an eel.

The swordsman gulped. “Now what?”

“I want you to try on some suits.”

“What for?”

Sanji’s eyebrows told Zoro how dumb his question was. “Because how else will we know they fit?”

Zoro was in for a long afternoon.


	11. Kimono

“How does it feel?”

Zoro’s question lingered unanswered. Sanji did not reply at first, running his hands over the kimono Zoro had given him to try on. It was soft and silky, but loose fitting. Nothing at all like the usual clothes he wore – tailored suits that fit him perfectly. This was open, airy, soft without clinging. “I feel like I’m swimming in this,” he said. “And I can’t swim.” The cook laughed darkly at his own joke.

Zoro smiled. His posture was different, since he was used to wearing a kimono. “You’ll get used to it eventually.” Sanji continued to fidget uncomfortably. The swordsman closed the gap between them and reached out, softly but firmly grabbing the back of Sanji’s hands.

“Sorry, sorry I’m not used to it y-“ Sanji began.

“Shh,” Zoro shushed him and grinned. He squeezed Sanji’s hands once then let go, placing his hands on the cook’s sides and pulling him closer. Their foreheads touched, noses brushed against one another, and Zoro’s large hands slowly wove their way around to Sanji’s back, his knuckles brushing the soft fabric of the kimono.

“See? It’s not so bad,” the swordsman said in a husky tone. “More space to _breathe_.” He locked Sanji in a tight embrace – lips pressed together, hands clenching bare skin – and took the cook’s breath away.


	12. Tattoos

_Th-thump_   
_   
Th-thump_

Sanji’s ear was pressed against Zoro’s chest. They were laying together in Zoro’s quarters, entangled in one another beneath the soft light of a lazy afternoon sun. Zoro’s heartbeat was measured and controlled. The steady rhythm of a highly trained warrior perfectly at rest.

Sanji was nestled in the space between Zoro’s chest and left arm, his own left hand laying on the first mate’s abs. He playfully made his hand “stand up” on his pointer and index finger, walking it over to Zoro’s right arm.

“What are y-“

Sanji ran the tip of his finger up along the curve of Zoro’s bicep. Zoro’s arm shivered as goosebumps appeared. “S-stop, _stop _that tickles,” he mumbled, a smile in his voice as he tried to wriggle away defensively without losing their snuggling position.

That’s when Sanji noticed something he hadn’t before – a small tattoo on the inside of Zoro’s right arm: a small heart silhouette made of thorny vines tangled around a sword all done in blank ink. “What’s that?” Sanji asked in a somber voice.

“Hm?”

“The tattoo.”

“Oh. It’s,” Zoro began, pausing for a heartbeat too long. “-nothing.”

Sanji didn’t say anything right away. Unspoken confessions filled the silence between heartbeats.

Sanji finally ventured, “Tell me sometime?”

Zoro pressed his face to the top of Sanji’s head to plant a soft kiss in his blonde hair.

“Of course.”


	13. Goth

“Oh. My. God.”

Sanji was gobsmacked. Flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. Mesmerized.

“What? _What?!” _Zoro seethed. “I don’t get what’s so funny!”

“You look… incredible,” Sanji replied, his face plastered with an enormous grin and tears of joy welling in his eyes.

They both stood in their attire for the Halloween costume party. Sanji was a vampire – all black suit with a blood red tie and matching corsage, long flowing cape that shimmered sparkling black on the outside with a wet-looking red inside. Tiny imitation fangs protruded from his mouth.

Zoro was supposed to be a vampire thrall, but he hadn’t known what that meant. Sanji had told him to “just dress goth” and he had clearly run with that. Zoro had thick rings of eyeliner on and three glittering obsidian earrings. His arms had long fishnet sleeves that ended at the fingers, his nails sloppily painted black. He wore black shorts and his chest was bare save for the bone white suspenders pressed against his skin. His legs were covered in black and white horizontal-striped stockings and on his feet were large black boots.

“You said goth and all I could think of was Mihawk and Perona, so I…” Zoro stopped suddenly self-conscious. “Should I change?” Zoro asked sheepishly.

“No no _no_, this is perfect,” Sanji grinned. He walked over and locked arms with his big doofus boyfriend and lead him out of the room. “Come on you, we’ll be late for the party.”


	14. Cute

Chopper played on the sandy beach. “Look, I made a little hospital!” he called back to Zoro and Sanji. The doctor waved his hoof to get their attention, frequently pausing to point at particular details like the clearly labeled ER and tiny “nurses” made from upright starfish.

“Wow, it looks great chopper!” Sanji called out from his beach chair. He was lounging so far back he had to sit up slightly to see the reindeer’s handiwork. He smiled without raising his shades, his azure shorts in stark contrast to his tanned skin.

Zoro added with a smirk, “It’s cute. Great job buddy.” He was tanning too, white shorts with green stripes along the sides matching his hair color.

Chopper beamed. His eyes twinkled from the double dose of paternal affirmation. “Eeee!” he squealed cheerfully. “Okay, I’m going to add a helipad!” He snorted air determinedly. “Oh no, mister hermit crab don’t come over here-“ he cried, trying to shoo away a crab which had wandered close.

Sanji and Zoro shared a laugh together. “I’m glad we decided to do this,” Sanji said with a smile.

“Me too,” Zoro answered.


	15. Royalty

The cook and the first mate finally had a moment alone. Another island, another battle, another victory – all in day’s work for a Straw Hat pirate. Zoro was sitting on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, coat all in tatters. Sanji came in and closed the door behind him. “Glad to finally be back – that whole ordeal was exhausting,” he sighed. The cook lit a cigarette, took a long satisfying drag, and exhaled a calming stream of smoke. He noticed Zoro’s sullen expression. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I want to do that.”  
  
“Do what?”  
  
Zoro raised his head and met Sanji’s eyes. Intensity burned behind his pupils – for a moment, Sanji knew what it was like to face Zoro in true combat.

“I want to do what you do, like how you protect the others. I want to protect you like that.” Zoro stood from the bed and took a step closer. Sanji leaned his back against the door, uncertain where this was coming from.  
  
Zoro took another step. “I’m always fighting by myself. For myself. To better myself. But you always fight to protect the others.”  
  
Sanji, intimidated by Zoro’s intensity, tried to shrug off his nervousness. Zoro advanced again and slammed his hand against the door, right next to Sanji’s face. It jarred the cook. “Hey, en-“  
  
“I’m serious. I’m tired of fighting just for me. It’s you I want to fight for.”

Sanji couldn’t look away, the swordsman’s eyes had him entranced. How many heartbeats passed without either of them blinking? How many breaths did they forget to take.

“A knight, then,” Sanji managed, his voice somber and serious.

“Your knight. This night and always.”

The cook, his head swimming, reached up to run his free hand across the back of the swordsman’s head. His fingers combed through messy hair. He clutched him tight and pulled him in for a kiss neither of them wanted to let go from.


	16. Nature

Zoro looked around the picnic blanket, his head swiping back and forth in search of something.

Sanji sat up, his hands behind him on the grass. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Looking for my compass.” Zoro stopped and picked up a small round metal object. “Ah, here it is.”

“Compass? Wait, where are you going? We barely started lunch.”

Zoro pointed at an empty bowl in their lunch spread. “We’re out of tango fruit. Someone ate them all,” he said, his tone flat and his face sticky with tango fruit juice.  
  
“You’re going to go out there to pick fruit? I heard there are big, scary beasts out here,” Sanji said with a curl of his lip.

“I’m not afraid.”

Sanji crept closer. “Not even a little? With their big fangs?” He smiled mischievously.  
  
“I’ll defeat them.”  
  
“What if they use their… _wiles _on you?” Sanji put a hand on Zoro’s shirt, running his fingers lightly across his broad chest and defined abs.

“They can’t trick me.”

Sanji rolled his eyes, reaching up to grab the swordsman’s cheek and turn his head to face him. “I mean _me _you dummy.”

A bead of sweat ran down Zoro’s temple. “O… oh,” he admitted with red cheeks.

Sanji chuckled and gave him a soft peck on his rosy cheek. “Come on you, let’s go,” he said. Sanji grabbed Zoro’s hand and lead him off into the woods. 


	17. Spiky

Two eyes stared over the edge of the countertop.  
  
A knife was poised in the air.  
  
Blood was about to be spilled.  
  
One heartbeat.  
  
Two heartbeats.  
  
Sharp inhale.

_Strike!_  
  
“Wow, such precision...” Zoro murmured in amazement.  
  
Sanji peeled back the bit of the puffer-fish he was preparing and tenderly placed the poisonous parts in the waste basket. “I’ve done this a few times,” Sanji remarked.

“How do you avoid the spiky bits?”

A shrug. “Care, practice, a good grip, and a sharp blade.” The knife moved swiftly beneath his capable hands. Zoro rounded the counter to stand behind the cook and watch.

The swordsman got closer to the cook as the slicing and dicing was completed. “I love it when you talk swords,” Zoro said, his tone as sincere as it was sultry.

Sanji responded with a deep belly laugh and turned to speak over his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Zoro removed the space between them, wrapping his arms around Sanji’s waist and pulling him close. With his chin resting on Sanji’s shoulder he grinned and said, “I know. Show me again?”


	18. Round

“What’s the funny looking one called again?” Sanji asked.  
  
Zoro huffed as he continued his workout. A few reps later he lowered the weight to the deck. “Kettle bell.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yes, really.” Zoro took a breather, Sanji took another drag of his death stick.  
  
Zoro perked one brow, “You know, you’d probably be even stronger if you spent more time with this,” he pointed down at the orb-like kettle bell weight, then pointed at Sanji’s cigarette, “instead of that.”  
  
Sanji’s eyebrows waggled like angry spirals. “Are you saying I’m not healthy?”  
  
Zoro did not respond.  
  
Sanji leaned forward, narrowing his eyes judgmentally. “Are we going to talk about your eating habits, moss-head?” The swordsman shifted his eyes to look away, twitching at the corners as he avoided Sanji’s gaze.  
  
“Or how about your drinking habits?”  
  
Zoro picked up the kettle bell without reply.  
  
Sanji smirked and brought the death stick back to his lips.  
  
After a few minutes of silent workout, Zoro apologized. “I’m sorry I… worry about you. That’s all.”  
  
“I know, it’s cute. But we all have our vices.” Sanji walked over and draped an arm around his sweaty boyfriend. “I’ll tell you this much – if I ever do quit, you’d be the one I’d quit for.”  
  
They shared a smile and the cook gave him a soft peck on the cheek.


	19. Fantasy

Sanji pushed his face in close to Zoro, the bridge of his nose pressing against the side of Zoros’ neck. “Tell me,” he purred, his voice hot against Zoro’s skin. “_Tell _” His voice was part command, part plea.

Zoro gulped. His heart pounded. Beads of sweat ran freely. He tried to form the words but all that came out were sticky hot gasps for air.

They were both deep in their cups. They’d snuck away from the rest of the crew early in the evening, trying to find more rum to bring back up for dinner. They found the rum, _and _found themselves in each other’s arms.

“Tell me,” Sanji repeated again, clutching a fistful of Zoro’s shirt and softly kissing the base of his neck. “What’s your fantasy?”

Zoro felt his heart racing, his blood rushing to his cheeks and… other places. He prided himself on strength, realism, pragmatism, even in love. Voicing a fantasy was like exposing a vulnerability. Leaving himself open. Of course he had fantasies but he had never voiced them before, never let his guard down. But maybe…

Sanji kissed him again.

Maybe he could…

“Well…” Zoro gulped, “…uh, it’s…” As he spoke he leaned down and whispered into Sanji’s ear.  
  
As Zoro offered his heart’s desire to Sanji, the cook’s eyebrows waggled more and more devilishly. “Hmm… oh… _oh-ho!” _Sanji giggled tipsily. “You’re bad,” he said as he looked into Zoro’s eyes. The swordsman’s entire head turned red save his green hair.

“That’s okay,” Sanji murmured. “…I am too.”


	20. Candy

“I’m not fo phure about all vfis,” Zoro muttered.

“Don’t be a stick in the mud, moss-head,” Sanji replied.

Chopper bounced excitedly nearby.  
  
“Don’t you vink it’s too march?”

“Take those things out, I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” Sanji said heatedly.

Zoro grunted before reaching up and pulling the plastic vampire teeth from his mouth. “I just think it’s all too much, you know?” He tried to rub his chin thoughtfully but all it did was make his fake goatee fall off.

Sanji shrugged, his mummy straps unfurling slightly. “A little candy won’t hurt him.”  
  
“You’re a chef! You know how unhealthy that stuff is.”

“But it’s Halloween, and just look at him,” Sanji replied, motioning to Chopper. The reindeer was bouncing excitedly and clapping his hooves, threatening to make his sea train conductor costume fall off after a long night of trick or treating.  
  
Sanji continued, “They gave it to him cause he’s adorable. Don’t take that from him.”

Zoro cross his arms, a long sigh escaping his lips. “Fine, fine. But if he gets sick from all that, it’s yo-“

Sanji kissed him to cut him off. “Glad you came around you softie.”


	21. Geometric

“I… hng… can’t… hrmph… _do it_.”

“You can, keep trying.”  
  
“This thing is impossible.”

“It’s really not, you big dork.”  
  
Zoro stuck out his tongue slightly, his three brain cells working overtime to try and come up with a solution. “It’d be easier if I could just cut it up.”  
  
“That’s not solving it, that’s breaking it.” 

“Same difference.”

“They are not at _all _the same thing.”

Zoro grunted again, his meaty hands trying to line up the colors on the Rubix cube. Sanji watched him and tried to stifle his laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen struggle this much at anything,” the cook joked.  
  
Zoro paid him no mind. “Almost… almost…” the swordsman continued.   
  
_click chaclick CLACK!_

Zoro’s face lit up. “There! I did it!” he announced proudly, holding up the toy cube and beaming. “One side down! And… uh… two, three, four… five more to go!”  
  
“You realize you only got that because your sweaty hands made the stickers come off, right?”

Zoro blinked, turning to face the blank side of the cube, his face genuinely perplexed.  
  
Sanji smiled warmly. _He’s… not the brightest, but does make me laugh._ “Here, let me help you…”  



	22. Masculine

Sanji moved. Every footfall was thunder. Every leap was lightning. He gritted his teeth, clenching down on his cigarette so it did not spiral away during his aerial assault. He pounced from one enemy to the next, each kick a burning lance.

“Retreat! Retreat! It’s Blackfoot Sanj_OOF_!” one goon began before a kick smashed in his teeth and sent him tumbling end over in, his scorched face leaving a spiraling contrail of inky black smoke. 

Sanji finally touched down, one foot on the ground, one foot on the neck of a fallen foe. The heel of his polished black dress shoe – still hot to the touch – pressed down on the man’s throat like a hot iron. “Your choice. Surrender and tell us what we need to know,” Sanji began, leaning down to deliver the last few words point blank, “Or I put you out like a cheap cigarette.”  
  
Zoro stood frozen a food meters away. He gulped audibly. _Oh shit he’s hot._  



	23. Feminine

“Come on, step out,” Robin said.  
  
“Hold… hold on, these thi­­-_whoa!” _Zoro put his hands out to his sides to try and steady himself.

“You make the joke you do the time,” Robin laughed.   
  
“Haha, yeah get out here mister tough guy,” Nami agreed.  
  
“I’m. Coming. Give. Me. A. Second.”   
  
Zoro stepped out onto the deck, wobbly at first, but each step with slightly more confidence. He was in a skin tight black corset, his back crisscrossed with tight straps that formed a line of x’s along his lower spine. The top of the corset was trimmed in frilly white lace, the edges of which started just below his nipples. The rest of his upper chest, shoulders, and arms were exposed saved for the small white shirt cuffs around his wrists. Black fishnet stockings hugged his legs, his meaty thighs barely contained in the constricting attire. The glossy black heels he wore had large white flowers on the top of the toes, and the three inch heels made each step a challenge.  
  
“Now, tell me again how it’s no big deal to fight in all that?” Robin asked him.

“Okay… uh… I’m sorry,” Zoro sighed. “I was,” he began to say just as the bunny ears he was wearing flopped in front of his face, “wrong.” Robin and Nami laughed harder.

Sanji, standing unnoticed in a doorway nearby, gulped audibly. _Oh shit he’s hot._  



	24. Angelic

Sanji tried to fight back the tears. It did not usually bother him. Usually he could look past it, keep the past where it belonged. Not this time. This time his mistakes came back to haunt him, old missteps turned against him  
  
He tried so hard to get it right. Tried to be better than he was. But who he used to be, the people he’d hurt before, remained. When those scars reared their heads the wounds opened anew. Sanji told himself that who he’d been, well, that was before he was ready. He was not ripe yet as a person, he needed more time to flourish. Now he felt like he’d already gone rotten – they were just throwing him out.   
Sanji clenched his fist against his chest and the tears started. He couldn’t stop them, even when he bit his lip.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Sanji looked up. Zoro stood over him, face haloed moonlight.

“God not right now, I don’t want you to see me like this,” Sanji began and tried to walk away.  
  
Zoro grabbed his wrist. His grip was firm. It did not hurt, but it hurt to turn back and look at him.  
  
“You don’t have to be alone right now. Stay with me. Let me stay _with _”

Sanji buried his head in Zoro’s chest and let it out. Let it all out. Zoro put his arms around Sanji in a protective embrace and held him through the sobs.


	25. Devilfish

Sanji sat poolside and sighed wistfully, his leg wrapped in an oversized cast.

“What?” Zoro managed, swimming up to the edge of the pool to rest his arms on the side.

“Nothing,” Sanji lied, adjusting himself uncomfortably in the beach chair. The cast made his pouting and frustration more obvious.  
  
Zoro stared. His eyes narrowed. “You’re lying,” he deduced, admirably.

Sanji said nothing.

“You want to swim,” Zoro said. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

“Well come here then,” the green-haired doofus said.

Sanji blinked in confusion. “I said come here,” Zoro continued.

Sanji approached the water’s edge timidly, his normally graceful steps made awkward by the cast around his leg. Zoro reached up and took his hand, gently leading him into the water.  
  
“Zoro I can’t-“  
  
“Let me.”  
  
Zoro took Sanji’s arms and wrapped them around his own neck and shoulders, then the swordsman placed his hands on the cook’s hips beneath the water. “Hang on, I’ve got you,” he said and gave Sanji a reassuring squeeze.  
  
Zoro put his arms out to his side and tilted backwards, kicking softly and sweeping his arms in wide motions. He moved slowly and deliberately, their joined bodies sailing smoothly through the water.

Sanji’s heart was racing, pounding in his chest, the pressure all the more given that his chest was pressed against Zoro’s. He wanted to kick and help, but the large thing around his leg gave him pause.

“Hold on to me, I won’t let you down,” Zoro murmured. Sanji held him tight and allowed himself a nervous smile. The two of them swam together for a long, pleasant afternoon.


	26. Summer

“Craaaaaaap it’s so hot out!” Sanji moaned. He reached up with his free hand and titled his sunglasses back in order to wipe sweat from his brow. His eyebrow curled mischievously as he said, “Or it could just be because of you, mister.”  
  
Zoro made a sound that was part chuckle part scoff. “Enough, we’re in public,” he replied. “And hurry up, take one of these before it melts.” The swordsman’s arms were crooked in L-shapes as he held an ice cream cone in each hand, and he lifted one then the other to indicate that the cook should pick one.  
  
“You’re right, wouldn’t want you to melt them,” Sanji joked, chasing his words with a devilish _hrm hrm hrm _ He reached over and took one of the ice cream cones from Zoro, grasping the wide part of the cone slowly between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Stop,” Zoro sighed.

Sanji made a lewd up and down motion.  
  
“Stop.”  
  
Sanji let his pinky brush across the top of Zoro’s finger.  
  
“Stop.”  
  
Sanji reached up and licked across the top of the vanilla scoop, slowly running his tongue over the sweet treat.  
  
“hnnng, _stop._” Zoro was more begging than telling.

Sanji lifted the ice cream above his head and bit off the bottom of the cone, sucking out the melted liquid from the bottom.  
  
“…”  
  
Sanji tried to pull away but a river of cream was flowing freely, and it ran down the corner of his mouth and neck. “Oops,” he laughed, not at all sorry. He reached up to wipe the corner of his mouth from his sleeve and Zoro grabbed his arm.  
  
“Us. Ship. Now.” was all the red-faced swordsman could manage, as he began to drag Sanji back to the Thousand Sunny, the cook’s playful laughter ringing out in the market square.


	27. Spring

“Lost again?”  
  
Zoro stood alone in a stunning field of flowers, thousands of dazzling blooms stretching out all around him. Dozens upon dozens of hues – from white to yellow to pink to blue to purple and back again – surrounded the swordsman. His dark green coat almost made him seem comically drab by comparison.   
  
He turned his head to look up at Robin. “No, not lost. Just searching.”  
  
She took a few steps towards him, crossing her arms over her chest, the wind blowing in from behind her to send her long raven hair fluttering. “For what?”  
  
Zoro scanned the flowers nearby. “Something special. For him.”  
  
“I see,” she replied softly.  
  
“He deserves the best I can find. Something as good as he is,” Zoro commented. “I can’t tell which of these is better.” His remarks had a hint of frustration. To his mind beauty was measurable – a blade could be objectively sharper or better quality, why would a flower’s beauty be any different? _Sanji deserves the sharpest flower I can find_.

“Do not ask your eyes what is best,” Robin said, “Ask your heart.”  
  
Zoro had not thought of it like that. He paused, reached down on one that caught his eye, and plucked it. _He’ll love this, _Zoro smiled. “Thanks Robin,” he said with a smile, and they walked back to the ship together.


	28. Fall

“This always makes me a little sad,” Sanji said solemnly. He and Zoro stood on the deck of the Thousand Sunny while the others milled about. Sanji looked at the leaves of the orange tree, their once full verdant green transitioning to golden brown and burning orange.   
  
“Sad?” Zoro asked  
  
“To see the leaves go like that. It means a few months without the oranges or the greenery – the sight of it lifts my spirits, that’s all.”  
  
The fall wind picked up, causing Sanji to shudder as a chill ran through him. “Brr! It gets colder too,” he added with a chuckle.  
  
Zoro wrapped his arms around Sanji and pulled him close, rubbing his back up and down with his large hands. “I’ll keep you warm,” he said, kissing Sanji on the forehead.   
  
Sanji was suddenly pressed against Zoro’s chest. “Hmphey whfa- hmmm,” he said, his initial protest shut down by Zoro’s warm back rub.  
  
“Better?”

“Better.”


	29. Winter

“Hey, where are you going?”

Zoro stopped at the doorway with his hand on the doorknob. He turned back to face the room, his gym bag over his other shoulder. Sanji was lying in bed, the sheets pulled up neck. “Don’t tell me you’re off to the gym.”  
  
Zoro blinked as if he didn’t understand why that was a problem. “Yeah. I got cold.”

Sanji blinked in return. “You’re cold so you’re going to the gym?”

“Working out helps me warm up.”

Sanji sat up and rested on his left elbow. The sheet slide down to his waist, drawing Zoro’s eyes to his bare chest – Zoro couldn’t help but trace the edges of his abs, his lean shoulders, the devilish curve of his eyebrows.  
  
“I could help you warm back up,” Sanji said. “I don’t want you freezing out there with those cold weights.”

Zoro clicked his tongue against his teeth.   
  
Sanji raised his right hand and made a beckoning motion with a single finger.

_Come. _

_On. _he mouthed.  
  
Zoro’s cheeks and neck flushed red as the blood rushed to his face, then rushed further down…  
  
He came back to bed for a warm winter’s night.


	30. Christmas

“Merry Christmas!!!” Luffy shouted. He leaped in the air and punched outwards with both arms, his gleeful face beaming.  
  
“Merry Christmas!” the rest of the Straw Hats replied in unison. There were cheers and the clinking of glasses. Presents were handed out and music played softly in the background.

Luffy sprang into action, power-sliding under the tree and handing out presents with his long outstretched arms.

Sanji held a cup of cocoa in his hands. He watched the others enjoying the holiday food he had prepared – laughing, smiling, reveling in the company of another – and smiled to himself.

Zoro sat next to him on the couch, watching the cook in silence. He couldn’t fight back a smile either. The swordsman saw it in his eyes, in his smile – the way Sanji took care of everyone else, the way he reveled in making sure they were well-fed. He took care of them. _Us, _Zoro corrected himself, _he takes care of us_.

Sanji felt a soft peck on his cheek and turned to look at Zoro. The green-haired jock was smiling ear to ear.   
  
“What was that about?” Sanji asked, a slight smile at the edge of his mouth as he tried to decipher what Zoro was thinking.

“Nothing,” Zoro replied. He rested his hand on Sanji’s thigh, giving it a firm squeeze, then turned back to the festivities.

Sanji’s cheeks felt as warm as the cocoa in his hands.


	31. Halloween

The Halloween party had taken an eternity.

Finally they were alone.

Zoro pressed Sanji against the wall, perhaps a bit too forcefully – it made the prop werewolf ears begin to fall off the cook’s head. Zoro’s right arm wrapped around Sanji’s waist, pulling him closer and lifting him slightly, while his left hand grabbed Sanji’s thigh and began to lift his leg. Sanji wrapped his legs – first the raised one, then the other – around Zoro’s waist, entangling him in the ridiculous black cape he was wearing.  
  
Their kisses were hungry. Desperate. Like they hadn’t held each other in a hundred years. Zoro had discarded the fake vampire teeth somewhere between the party and the door of Zoro’s quarters. Sanji had thrown off the fake wolf’s nose at some point after they’d fumbled their way into the swordsman’s room.

Sanji leaned his head to one side, trying to catch his breath as Zoro ran his tongue along Sanji’s neck. They had both been drinking. Both of them were clumsy. Passionate. Eager. Zoro began to kiss Sanji’s neck, just behind the end of his jawline and beneath his ear. Sanji fumbled with the buttons of Zoro’s blouse – they finally _pop-pop-popped _open. “Hrrrmm_mmm_,” he purred, grabbing at Zoro’s chest in greedy motions, like he was trying to take handfuls of the well-built first mate.   
  
“Aren’t we..?” Sanji began to ask but was cut short by Zoro’s hand finding just _that _spot.

“Hrrmm, no, here,” Zoro grunted more than spoke. “Need you.”

They had planned to make it all the way to bed but the call of desire interrupted. That night their passion found one another there against the wall, on the floor, on the floor again…


End file.
